


the pet

by eruriotica (minxiebutt)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Brainwashing, Dehumanization, Food, Forced Feminization, Language Barrier, Manipulation, Orgasm Control, Other, Ownership of humans, Physical Abuse, Tattoos and Piercings, just the usual thanks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-02-13 06:03:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 18,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12977643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minxiebutt/pseuds/eruriotica
Summary: The commander trains his war prize.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kataki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kataki/gifts).



> Read with caution, etc etc; y'all should know me by now, it's only going to get worse.

 

  
For all the opulence in the room, there’s not a god damned thing to eat, and Levi has been fighting the painful cramps in his stomach for an entire day. He’s suffered through being restrained and groomed in the stables like some fucking kind of animal. He’s been branded like one, and the thought makes him scratch at the bandage. He’s been transported in a cage. And all the while, he’s been cooed at in a foreign tongue; he doesn’t understand a word of it, and some fuckers even think that speaking slowly will miraculously make him understand.

Fuck this place, and fuck the commander that brought him here.

Levi rolls over to alleviate his hunger. Chains tinkle where they intersect, from his collar to his wrists to his ankles, the lead between them too short to allow him to stand. He’s been forced into his undignified crawling, and he swears that he will eat the heart of the stablemaster for putting this shit on him.

And to make matters worse, the fucking commander comes in regularly spaced intervals, stands at the doorway, and pats his thigh expectantly, as if Levi is some fucking dog, some fucking animal meant to jump at the chance for attention. Every time, he spits long strings of swears at the commander, who’s probably too stupid to grasp Levi’s language because he never replies. He only waits for Levi to move, and when Levi fucking does not, the man leaves.

No one else enters, or even knocks on the door. The first few days, the isolation feels good. Levi’s been ripped from his home, from his territory, where he was feared and respected and fucking worshipped by some; he’s been brought to the estate of the commander that conquered his people, and he’s been treated like a scared and confused animal.

Levi begins to lose track of the days after the fourth sunset in this room. It’s easy to drink water from the sink in the bathing room, but his stomach demands more than he can give it.

The hunger calms itself by the next morning, but Levi’s limbs shake when he moves. His head is heavy and it feels like his heart beats too forcefully. The commander comes shortly after Levi wakes, and this time, he has only enough strength to say, “You piece of shit, I hope my death humiliates you.”

Because as much as Levi does not understand about these people, he knows what a war prize is, and he knows that there was a bounty for his island’s ‘most treacherous and vile criminal’ that had a hundred men flocking to find him.

“You will not die, stubborn dog,” the commander says, and though he speaks Levi’s language with a severe accent, hearing familiar words has Levi’s thoughts in disarray.

It only renews his resolve to eat this man’s heart, as well.

Levi drinks water from the sink until he feels his stomach might burst, but it only makes him feel better for a little while. It’s getting hard to count the days, so he makes tiny tears in the bed sheet to help him remember.

There are ten little rips in no time, then twelve, then fifteen.

Levi has refused to sleep in the bed before, but the tiles are cold and they make him shiver violently now. And even under the heavy bedding, under the rich fur he recognises from a predator he cannot name anymore, he shivers. It never stops anymore.

The commander enters, first looking to the corner that Levi had claimed, before scanning the room and eventually finding Levi where he curls up in the bed. He pats his thigh.

“No,” Levi murmurs. He hasn’t felt like telling the commander off. There’s no point. He never responded to Levi’s insults.

The commander pats his thigh again, three nearly silent taps.

“No,” Levi breathes, exhausted all over again. But he will not give in, not yet.

For days, the commander’s appearances blur together. Levi has lost any sense of time between them. He’s lost any sense of time. He sleeps so much that he cannot accurately count the sunsets or sunrises, and he stops tearing the sheet after twenty.

The commander pats his thigh.

Levi doesn’t remember the man entering, and he barely remembers sliding himself from the bed and landing in a tangled heap. All he knows is that he’s crawling toward the man in a delirious haze, his eyes on the commander’s right hand as it pat-pat-pats his thigh again, encouraging Levi forward.

He cannot stand with these chains, and though Levi means to sit up, he falls onto his side. He closes his eyes. His heart is furious, it beats him from the inside.

Something prods against his mouth, inviting itself past his lips. With shock, he recognises the taste of meat.

At first, it feels like a hallucination, but another cube of dried meat appears between the commander’s fingers and Levi allows himself to be fed, too weak to protest. Chewing alone is a labour. The commander roughs up Levi’s hair after Levi swallows, petting him like a dog, but the meat brings too much pleasure into Levi’s mind for him to be upset.

Levi plans on resisting the next time the commander enters his room, but it felt so good to have a nibble of food. His body disagrees with his resolve. This time, the commander feeds him three cubes of meat from a plate he sets on the floor at his feet. They’re freshly cooked, not dried, and Levi eats them all at once while the man pets his hair.

Hunger overrides his pride. He still wants to eat the commander’s heart, but he won’t be able to do that if he’s weak. He justifies his obedience. It’s false. He’s only biding his time.

The commander pats his thigh. Levi is quick to approach, to bend his head, exposing the brand at the base of his neck, to wait for the man to set a plate of meat down.

And one day, after Levi is finished with his morsels, the commander spreads his feet and points to the space between. Levi shuffles over, and the commander bends and begins to speak slowly, quiet. The words have no meaning, but one is repeated enough for Levi to grow familiar.

A familiar word, the commander says with one long stroke down Levi’s spine, followed by a few foreign words, and then he pulls two cherries from his pocket and offers them to Levi.

When Levi moves to take them with his hand, the commander closes his fingers. Levi lets his hand fall, and the commander bares the fruit again, only to hide it again when Levi reaches for it.

The game frustrates Levi, because he can practically taste the tart juices on his tongue, and the commander keeps denying him that pleasure. Levi stills, looking at the shining fruit, realising he should approach in a different way. Slowly, he leans his face toward the commander’s palm, expecting the fingers to close up, but they remain open. Levi uses his tongue to scoop the two cherries into his mouth, and his brain ignites with happiness at the sweet tartness he tastes. The commander stops using plates after that.

Levi is never fed enough to make the gnawing hunger leave, but he’s given enough to tide him over until the commander comes again. This goes on long enough that even when Levi’s got enough strength to try and attack the man, he’s forgotten his vow to eat his heart. He’d rather eat the foods he earns so easily. Every few days, the commander waits for Levi to learn something new before rewarding him with a new thing to eat, and it births an eager attentiveness in Levi. He watches the commander’s every movement, enraptured. He watches the commander’s hand, that beautiful hand from which Levi receives his orders and his rewards.

Meat for coming. Cherries when the commander strokes along his spine. Cheese for kneeling. Bread for letting hands rove his body without reservation. And on the day that the commander brings in maids to groom Levi again, he earns a whole piece of cake for his compliance.

It’s an easier life than the one Levi had before. He doesn’t have to work hard or hurt anyone or rob them. He doesn’t go days between meals because there’s been no one to steal from. All he needs to do is obey.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Levi plants his feet to resist being tugged out of the safety of his room. In here, he can crawl wherever he wants and no one will touch him except the commander. Out there, he was caged and humiliated and held down while a hot brand was burned into his skin. In here, he is safe and fed.

The commander gives a more insistent tug on Levi’s leash, but Levi refuses. The man comes to him with a disappointed expression, but he does not hit Levi, he simply unfastens the leash and leaves.

Nothing interrupts Levi’s room for the next two days, only the rumbling of his stomach. The memory of nearly a month starving persuades him when, again, he sees the leash.

The tiling does not bruise his knees through the thick leather pads the commander wraps around them. And there’s no longer shackles on his wrists and ankles. He crawls freely at the man’s side, needing long movements to match the man’s stride, tethered only by the leash attached to his collar.

Every fifty paces, the commander stops and gives Levi a grape from the bountiful vine he carries. Levi is careful not to nip those fingers, even when they move past his lips.

At one point, Levi falls behind enough that the slack in the leash between them goes taut, and when they stop, he receives nothing. It’s been two days since the commander has fed him, and Levi does not want to miss out on any rewards, so he focuses on matching the man’s pace no matter what. They don’t stop the exercise until the vine is empty, and by then, Levi is exhausted from so much activity, more activity than he’s had in months. He doesn't like this, he doesn't like how weak his body is becoming. Defined muscles are softening, he's looking less like a man, more like a boy. Still, he keeps up as the commander takes him back to his room, and when they get there, a maid is holding a plate of food.

Inside, the commander puts the food on the nightstand, but he steps away from it and pats his thigh.

Levi follows, reluctant at first, and watches in awe as the commander proceeds to kneel on the floor and point between his spread knees.

One look of those sea-blue eyes and Levi is shocked with the realisation that this is the first time they've made eye contact, and his starvation for it surprises him. But now that he knows he's been missing it, he can feel a bone-deep need for it, he can feel a hot longing in his chest, a _please look at me, please keep looking at me._

-

The pet is hesitant but Erwin waits for it to come forward and eventually, it nestles between his legs. There is an expression of curiosity on its face.

“Good dog,” Erwin tells it, but of course it can't understand him. That's going to have to change. “I should send you to primary school so you can learn something and be useful. Learn to speak the language as if you were a proper person.”

Erwin rubs at the pet’s side, lets his fingers rise and fall over each rib like ripples. “You're a pretty, useless, little thing, but I can see that fire in your eyes, still. I have to break you even further.”

He touches the brand where it sits on the pet’s neck. The scarring was not encouraged as it was in the other captured pets. The starvation period drove them to eating their scabs, among other things, but Erwin does not believe his pet picked at its scabs at all. He'll need to speak to the stable master about possibly redoing it, and if not that, then another way to raise the skin. Already, the Smith crest is dark against its pale skin, but Erwin had really hoped to encourage a keloid like the Zacharias house has managed to coax into their properties.

“I need to show you how worthless you are, I believe,” he says as he scratches lightly at its hips, pleased with the way it dips its head and raises its pelvis to his ministrations. “I need to make you realise that worthlessness.”

Mike’s pet is already accompanying him in court, but he owns a bitch, so of course it would be easier to train, its biology makes it more submissive. Perhaps he can observe how Hanji wrangles in her pet. It's a flighty and nervous thing, and although Erwin's pet has that same anxiety, his responds with fight instead. Never in his life has Erwin come across such a stubborn animal.

Erwin squeezes the globes of its ass. He could always follow Mike’s suggestion and fuck it, as he and Hanji have told Erwin multiple times before about the benefit of oxytocin to induce bonding. But Erwin wants his pet bonded to him out of feeling of necessity, not love. He doesn't mind whether the animal thinks it loves him or not, he only wants it to feel devoted as a means for its continued survival at his hand. “I'm wondering how you might respond to pleasure,” Erwin says as he runs his hands up its sides and into its hair to roughly scratch the scalp. There's a knock at the door. “But I think that beginning a regular grooming routine might be more important.”

Erwin rises to let the maids into the room, and they look nervously at the pet, but bravely step forward. There is new tension in the animal’s body, but it looks from the maids to Erwin to the plate of food on the nightstand, and it complies. After it's washed up, Erwin allows it the meal, making sure it does not feed itself with its hands.

He comes by every morning to walk the pet, and on the fourth day, he sees the faintest hint of a limp-- it favours one of its tender hands. The usual remedy are leather mitts that force the fingers into a fist, and Erwin is pleased to see the limp disappear shortly.

The pet follows him closely. It has eyes only for Erwin. He figures that's good enough for starters, the pet can accompany him to court.

Truly, Erwin is curious how its behaviour may change with a crowd. 


	3. Chapter 3

His bath is different today. The maids scrub him with new soaps, shave every inch of him with old-fashioned straight razors, rinse him with rose water, and then rub scented oils into his skin. It feels good, he won't deny, but it also feels like dressing up a pig for slaughter, and the alarms in his head begin to slowly wind up. The maids seem to sense his quiet hostility and aim to finish their task as quickly as possible, but because the commander walks back in with food to watch Levi being groomed, he does his best to comply patiently.

His face receives a generous dusting of gold powder, they paint colour onto his lips, and they apply eyeliner on his lids. Instead of letting his hair dry loose around his face, one maid blow dries it with a big barrelled brush, then slicks it back with something that smells like pine needles. They pinch his earlobes and say a few things in their language, but the commander interrupts them with a firm word that Levi thinks might be ‘no.’

After months without anything but a collar on his upper body, clothing feels too restrictive. He's too aware of the silky tunic on his skin, too focused on how much he wants to take it off. The familiar, tight wrap of leather on his knees centers him again. His nails are still neatly trimmed from his last grooming, but now they're buffed to shine before being slipped into leather mitts, and then the commander is sending the maids away.

Levi is fed from the hand, and he’s more than a little ashamed to admit that he prefers it to the plate. He doesn’t understand why it feels safer, having that little bit of contact between them, when the commander’s fingertips pass between his lips and he brushes his tongue against them. It’s an intimate guarantee, Levi thinks, when the commander feeds him this way, as if the man’s actions are meant to say, ‘I care for you so I tend to you personally’ or ‘I want you to live and I will make sure of it.’ This fierce desire to eat from the commander’s hands, to be near and intimate and valued, should frighten Levi. But a plate on the floor seems so distant compared to rough fingers just barely inside his mouth, and surely this makes Levi special-- surely the livestock are fed from troughs and not palms.

When it’s time to depart, he is quick at the commander’s side, his leash unnecessary after weeks of learning to match stride. Levi watches, highly in-tune with the commander’s every movement, anticipating every possibility so that he may stay obediently close. His heart thumps in his chest as they leave the safety of the familiar hallway, and make their way to a grand staircase.

The commander stops at the top. So does Levi. For a few anxious moments, neither of them move, and then a pair of hands, open and asking, present themselves. Levi’s mind roars as he tries to figure out what response is expected for this gesture. It's base instinct that has him crawling forward like a child accepting an offering to be picked up. His instincts are correct. The commander sets him back down once they've descended, and then Levi follows the man to the vehicle awaiting.

Levi enters first, hopping up into the footwell and crawling aside so that the commander has room to enter. Their driver shuts the door behind them and then a few moments later, they're moving.

From where he sits on the floor, Levi lifts his head curiously to look through the window as they journey, lets his head get lost in all the sights until patting on a thigh rips through his attention and makes him jerk.

The commander speaks once Levi is settled on his belly, his limbs all tucked beneath himself, head down and face on the cool, clean leather of the vehicle's backseat. He doesn't understand the words, yet the soft, firm tone sets aflame in Levi the desire to please, to perform. For food, he reminds himself like an afterthought.

If he's all trussed up like this, surely there's food where they're headed.

It suddenly becomes the least of his worries. The car service deposits them in front of a skyscraper, its sleek steel and windows all shining blindingly in the mid-morning angle of sunlight. Men in blue military uniforms mingle with civilian workers in suits and dress suits, and fuck, there’s even pets here, too, looking just as trussed as Levi. It brings a desperation to his chest, a need to call out and be answered in his own language, but the sight of the commander startles bystanders into shows of respect.

The commander is greeted with enthusiasm. With every new man of military uniform that approaches them, the alarm in Levi's head heightens that much more. He's painted, pretty, and pathetically vulnerable here in the presence of a nation that happily overtook his own. He'd watched their hasty sweep through the island on the news, less than three days from end to end, and he'd hid from them successfully until that fucking bounty--

There's nothing that tethers him to the commander. If he wanted, he could crawl away-- no, he could run, he's got two legs after all, he's spent his whole on them, why is he always bound to hands and knees now, like a dog?

Levi looks around frantically for an exit, and a heavily firm hand settles in his hair. He looks up at the same time that the commander and the man he’s speaking to look down at him. His commander says something jovial and the other man laughs along with him before pointing at Levi and saying something snide. The men laugh again and Levi can feel a growl rising in his throat, but the way the commander smoothes his hair back in little, petting motions steals his anger.

Slowly, painstakingly, they travel from the lobby to the deeper parts of the building, to a private elevator that takes them so high, Levi can feel the gravity curdle in his stomach.

The offices they arrive at are cozy and dim. Thick, dark brown carpeting with a high pile. Walls painted deep blue, silver accents. Singular spot lights casting warm glows instead of long fluorescent tubes and the harsh light Levi would expect in an office place. A secretary is taking a call when they step out of the elevator, and she hands the commander a tablet as they pass by.

At the end of the long hallway, the commander holds open a door for Levi to enter first. It’s done in the same fashion as the common areas. A large, antique wooden desk sits before the full-length windows and beside it, a huge, circular nest filled with bedding.

They don’t stay long before the commander is patting his thigh to have Levi follow him back out and through the building once more.

Their destination is a courtroom approaching session. The commander takes a seat at the right hand of the largest chair in the center of an arch, and Levi settles in at his right side, slightly surprised when the commander proffers a small chocolate candy as reward, and another, and another. When the flow of sweets is over, the commander leaves his stained fingertips spread out and Levi feels compelled to lick them clean, gleaning every last taste of chocolate.

Attentions are focused and chatter quiets once every seat is filled. Almost everyone has a pet kneeling beside them.

Hours of conversation drag on, so much that Levi begins to feel restless, but no other pets even wiggle. Levi feels a strange sort of kinship, a need to mimic their behaviour. He can see the evidence of nourishment in the softness of their skin, their bodies curving gently where Levi’s own is sharp and angular. It’s not just because they’re well-fed, either. Their bodies are dressed in the same silky tunics, but each pet has varying amounts of gold jewellery adorning them through modifications.

If he sneakily looks between the commander’s legs, he can steal a glance at the pet belonging to the apparent leader of the court. She has silver-streaked, long brown hair braided back, strands of pearls braided in. A headband of pearls, too. The ear visible to him is pierced a dozen times over, bearing more gold than Levi thought possible for a piece of flesh so small. Through her tunic, he can see her nipples peaked with the room’s coolness, bringing the bars through them to stand noticeably as well. Aside from her face, hands, and feet, her skin is covered with a canvas of delicately done black ink, like a living work of line art.

She’s beautiful, and it occurs to Levi that she is obedient. That she wears the bountiful evidence of her devotion. With another look around the room, he realises that all the pets do, though none are even a fraction as decorated as she is.

And he is the only naked one.

His growling stomach drops into his ankles, forgotten.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historic people-as-property AUs are cool but i really wanted to do it modern ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, Tsu my sweet, I'm sorry that I was so ungrateful last night. 
> 
> Happy birthday, Levi, thanks for letting me put you through these things.

Levi does not get to see the other pets every day, and he feels lonely for it. For the most part, going to the courthouse is solitary.

The nest is comfortable, but Levi always feels so restless after a day lounging, watching the commander take phone calls and visitors and read documents that require his signature.

On the fourth day, Levi pushes the boundary. He crawls from his nest and circles the office, watching for the commander’s reaction. When none comes after a full circle, Levi settles between the windows and the back of the chair. There’s a whole city of skyscrapers around them-- no different than the cities back home. But his nation had been slowly drained by the parasite that is colonisation. The politics, the taxes, the claiming of resources in the name of diplomacy. They’d been chased down, weakened, and when they were too weak to defend themselves, overthrown.

The commander talks to him often. Levi does his best to ignore the networking of meanings and translations in his brain. His loyalty to his island country runs too deep. Like many of his people, he refused to learn the new language. Somehow, he managed to go his whole life avoiding it, even when it was introduced as a requirement for school. He’d dropped out instead.

But he’s been here for… three months? Four?

There’s a room on the ground floor of their skyscraper, and they bypass their elevator to get there. Levi slows, lets himself fall out of stride with the commander, who tolerates that for only a moment before he grabs the back of Levi’s collar and yanks. He swallows to keep from coughing at the momentary strangle, but now his heart thumps in his ears and his breathing is shallow. His body feels like lightning.

The commander holds open the door, and Levi does not want to be yanked again, so he crawls in. It’s like a daycare or a playground, and all the occupants turn excited eyes to him when he enters.

He sits at the commander’s side as he signs Levi in, and the room’s attendant, a young woman in military uniform naked of earned badges, checks the brand on the back of Levi’s neck. She doesn’t pull away when Levi growls.

The commander kneels and picks up one of Levi’s hands to undo the mitts, then follows with the other, and gives them to the attendant, who puts them into a numbered cubby, slots filled with other sets of mitts and things. The commander clicks his tongue and Levi’s eyes dart to his, rewarded with their second-ever eye contact, and Levi does not want to ever look away. The commander’s eyes are so blue and reassuring, it nibbles away at the lightning running up and down Levi’s spine.

But when Levi is pushed through the corral and into the playground, he fights back. The attendant waves his commander away with a statement that makes the man nod, and Levi focuses on her when his commander disappears.

“What are you saying?” He asks her sharply, and the need to know is suddenly all-consuming. “What are you saying? What is it? What’s--”

“She said ‘separation anxiety is normal’,” a soft voice chirps up behind him. Levi tears around, as rapid as the lightning he’s feeling, ready to defend himself. The one speaking to him is a shy-looking girl, and something about the glare Levi gives her, makes her back up a few paces and sit on her butt. A long, ginger braid slips over her shoulder when she lowers her head, and it pools on the floor in front of her. Levi’s defensiveness dies at the sight of her inkless, jewel-less body. She’s as unrewarded as he is.

“What?” He asks again. This girl, she speaks the same as him, and his brain is a little too stunned to process her words. He’s gone months without.

“She’s talking about separation anxiety.” The girl looks around at the pets that still watch curiously, though many have returned to their activities. “If it’s your first time here. It’s normal.”

“Did you have it?” He snaps, and the way she flinches, he softens his tone. “Your first time, did you?”

She looks back at him, in the eye, before her gaze flutters back to the floor between them. “Yes. But I cried in the corner instead. You look ready to fight.”

“I _am_ ready to fight.”

Her eyes widen and dart to him again before she smiles and comes closer, invading his personal space like she belongs there. “What’s your name? What does your owner call you?”

“I don’t know,” he answers first. “Levi. Before the fall.”

“I came here after the siege, too,” she says quietly, like it’s a secret. Maybe it is.

“What were you called back home?” Levi asks reluctantly. If someone is trying to be friendly, the least he can do is put in some effort, as well.

“I was Isabel.” She looks a little forlorn at that. And as if she needs to cheer herself up, she tells him, “Now I’m Puppy.”

“You’re Isabel to me,” he says.

“And you’re Levi.” She leans in and butts her head against his chin like a cat seeking affection, and he rubs his cheek along her crown.

Isabel is, by all means, a puppy around Levi. She's bright and bubbly and almost annoying, but he feels protective over her, and not just for their native kinship. Perhaps, she is too soft. She sees the good too easily, she's not wary of the evil undercurrent that every human possesses. She's too naïve and Levi fears for her.

Their friendship blossoms over the course of several weeks, but one morning, Levi arrives at the pet care to find that Isabel is not there. She's absent for three days before she shows up, her red hair chopped off and hovering at ear length. One eye is sunken and blue, various bandages litter over her arms and legs.

Levi looks at the man who signs her in and commits his face to memory, and as soon as Isabel is pushed through into the corral, Levi is on her, demanding, “Who did this? Was it him, was it your owner?”

Isabel pushes her head into his chest and climbs into his lap, straddling him, melting against him, and as if she is just now realising she does not have to hide, she cries. Levi holds her, refusing to let anyone come near her for the entire day, and when her owner comes to collect her that afternoon, Levi avenges Isabel’s injury in blinding flashes of violence.

“Levi!” His commander shouts, and Levi stops his assault, caught off guard by the use of his name, moving back from the unconscious, bloody body of Isabel’s owner.

Every emotion in the commander is visible on his face, and Levi can see the uncontrollable anger in his eyes. Slowly, he pulls his stern expression into place, but Levi already knows what's about to happen. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erwin's language is shown in italics.

The commander does not hit him. He's not meeting Levi's eyes, but rather looking in the vicinity of his chest, and Levi shouts, “What!”

The steel mask seals over the commander’s face, returning him the same blank expression that Levi has begun to associate with him. He closes the space from the doorway to the scene that Levi has created.

The attendant seems to sense the anger rolling between Levi and the commander, and she takes Isabel back through the corral Levi had jumped, ushering all the pets to continue in their activities. Levi can hear her gentle cooing without turning around to watch.

 _“Dog,”_ the commander orders and Levi covers his ears, willing himself to forget every single translation Isabel told him. But a pat thigh urges Levi forward, too compulsory to ignore. He has to obey this-- even the thought of turning away from this makes his body want to crumple in imagined hunger.

The commander yanks a fistful of his hair as soon as he’s within reach, bends Levi over so that his face is pressed in the cool tiles. Like this, he can hear and feel approaching feet, and when the door opens again, he catches the barest flashes of medics’ uniforms, no doubt for Isabel’s owner. There’s no urgent edge to the words Levi hears, so he must not have done much damage beyond the superficial. The next footsteps Levi hears are less rushed, more heavy and focused instead. They sound like an executioner. For the first time, Levi bucks under the commander’s hand, a base instinct somewhere in his brain warning him of the certain death coming for him.

The commander only yanks at his hair again, and the whine Levi surrenders has nothing to do with the hairs ripped free of his scalp.

Levi’s arms are taken out from under him suddenly, wrenching around behind his back. He’s saved from hitting his head on the floor by the commander’s hold, and then his face is being pulled further up and a bit is being forced into his mouth. A muzzle follows the bit, and he can’t fight it because the commander drops his head and it takes all of Levi’s upper body strength to keep his body straight so that his neck doesn’t take the weight.

Levi growls when hands slip between his knees and pry them apart, and that only makes the hands rougher as they push his ankles up into his buttocks, affixing them each to the opposite wrist. Levi tries to kick, and when that results in nothing but glaring, frightening immobility, he thrashes wildly.

He cannot take this quietly. He will die if he does.

Someone grabs hold of his collar around the back and pulls, and even though it chokes him, he pushes forward until he feels a hand grab the fastening on the muzzle. With a sharp tug, Levi’s air supply diminishes and he’s got no choice but to quiet down. If he keeps thrashing, there won’t be enough oxygen going to his brain and he’ll pass out, and the idea of being unconscious as well as bound is something he cannot tolerate.

The awkward bindings do not give once the lead from the muzzle is attached to his wrists. Levi draws one shallow breath into his chest, but his heart continues to pound, and it’s going too fast. His vision dims, but no one is in a rush to move him once he’s dealt with. Levi relaxes enough that someone releases the binding lead on the muzzle, and he lets his forehead rest on the tiles, sucking in deep breaths.

He looks around once the usual sounds resume, his fellow pets engrossed in activities. A man in a black uniform is kneeling at the corral, trying to coax Isabel to come to him. Her owner has already been carried off, and she looks like a shaking pup separated from its mother.

The rest of that encounter will remain a mystery to Levi because another man in black kneels at his side. The first sight of a syringe renews Levi’s growling and thrashing for only a moment, because the commander distracts Levi at his other side, shushing and petting Levi’s hair. The prick of a needle in his shoulder registers, but the commander keeps rubbing his hair, rubbing, rubbing….

Levi has no memory of losing consciousness or regaining it, but he feels rested when he comes back to himself. He rolls onto his side, distantly remembering the humiliating chains only when he realises their absence. He’s not at home, or at the commander’s office, or even in the stables that he’d slept in upon arriving.

There’s no question, he knows where he’s at. Chain link fencing barriers making little prison cells. Concrete walls. The smell of feces and urine and rot. Blood and abandonment and defeat.

He’s in the pound. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time... I know the tag says it's not rated for sexual content BUT


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: detailed dehumanisation and anal fingering.
> 
> Levi's language in italics.

Erwin gives his pet one whole day to sit and hopefully contemplate its sins. When he does venture down to animal control’s pet wing, he dons the black uniform. The baton sits heavy with righteous justice at his hip.

The kennels are full today. He beats each cage front with the baton to rattle some life into the sad looking things. The control officer on duty trails behind him, boredly reading the clipboards of information. Male, twenty-nine, foster rejection; female, twenty-five, owner surrender; female, sixteen, owner surrender. A dozen owner surrenders fill the kennels apart from one. Male, nineteen, voluntary holding by owner.

Erwin looks over his pet but does not rattle the cage. The pet is looking at him closely, seeking eye contact which he denies. This one does not reek of sadness or shame. A few more days, then.

To the officer on duty, Erwin says, “I’ll adopt all these, but leave mine here. Inform my stable master to prepare the branding iron and the stables for new intakes.”

The new pets are easier to settle in. Pack mentality shapes them quickly. When one is rewarded, they all desire for the positive attention, too, and when one is punished, they avoid the bad behaviour. But of course they’re easier-- they’re rescues, they’re eager. It takes all the pleasure out of the conquest. Still, they’re good pets, so Erwin visits the jeweller Mike recommends and marks their obedience with pearl earrings.

Four days in, and Erwin’s pet in holding is only just beginning to give up its pride. The report is sparse but he understands his pet enough to recognise the signs. It has been alone since Erwin emptied the kennels. It rejects the bowls of oatmeal because it doesn’t want to soil its kennel. But eventually, when it is hosed down with the forceful spray of the power washer, it usually pisses itself anyway.

Erwin walks down between the empty kennels and wakes it with the baton on the chain link, it doesn’t seek his eye contact.

“Who do you belong to?” Erwin asks it.

It bristles and sits up. _“No one, least of all, you,”_ it answers in its own tongue.

“Speak like a proper person,” he tells it and it scoffs.

Erwin comes back three days later and it has started to eat the bowls of oatmeal, seeming to have resigned itself to the hose to keep its kennel clean.

It huddles in the corner furthest from the opening, presenting Erwin with its back. He rattles the cage and it jerks, its body breaking out in shivering.

“Who do you belong to?”

It slaps its hand over the brand on the back of its neck and hunches its shoulders. Without turning, it mutters, _“No one.”_

Another three days and the same question. The answer is weaker, and Erwin revels in the impending submission. He will possess this creature wholly.

He orders the food to be withheld and begins to come daily to offer it the meal in exchange for cooperation. It takes the pet just two days to realise that.

“Who do you belong to?”

_“No one.”_

He can see the internal struggle, so he comes twice a day, thrice a day, tempting it with something even as bland as steel cut oats.

“Who do you belong to?”

A cough, a terrible wheezing that sounds wet with phlegm. Then, silence, the lack of sound sweeter than denial.

Erwin is patient and consistent. A feral pet’s devotion cannot be won overnight, but a snarl that softens is the sweetest reward Erwin can receive for his hard work.

His pet’s bony angles are returning and Erwin will have to double its learning tasks so that it can gain a little more weight. Luckily, it enjoys bathing even if it looks at the maids with violence in its eyes. If Erwin orders a more intense grooming regiment, he can give it larger pieces of cake. It walks at his side well enough but he can teach it little ways to serve him, and he can condition it to feel pleasure for its services with sugary foods. And he’s sure that when this stubborn thing returns home and sees its new housemates have pearls on their ears, it will be itching to prove itself.

“Who do you belong to?”

 _“You,”_ it mutters like the word tastes bitter.

Erwin passes the bowl through the gap at the bottom of the chain link and the pet turns to face him, swallowing and licking its lips. For parting, Erwin tells it, “Speak like a proper person and you can come home.”

Three times a day, Erwin comes to feed it, first demanding its verbal submission. An unexpectedly busy day at court keeps him away for two meals and when he comes by that night, his pet is sitting at the opening.

Erwin is barely at its kennel before it is rising up on its knees, thin fingers grasping at the chain link. Its eyes are lowered.

“Who do you belong to?”

It licks its lips and says, with great hesitation, “You.” The single word is so accented that it is mispronounced, but it’s the admission that matters.

Erwin passes his hand through the barrier and cups its jaw. “Who owns you?”

“You,” it says again, more clearly.

“Good dog,” Erwin murmurs, allowing himself a victorious smile.

The maids take the pet’s leash as soon as Erwin is on the property. Without leather mitts and knee pads, it crawls slowly, but Erwin doesn’t mind following the leisurely stroll. The hour of their return is late, and the other pets have all been put to bed for the evening.

Erwin leans against the vanity in the bathroom as the pet is plunged into a tub of steaming water and scrubbed within an inch of sanity. A thorough inspection with a fine-toothed comb reveals a lack of lice or fleas, but there’s a scabbing rash on its palms, soles, and knees that will require ointment. Its dark body hair has grown back and when it's time for it to be shaved, Erwin dismisses the maids.

The pet doesn’t hesitate when Erwin pats his thigh to coax it from the bath and onto the towel spread on the floor beside the straight razor and soap. It doesn’t shy back as Erwin manhandles it around to shave its legs and under its arms. Erwin shaves the thin beard and the pet holds perfectly still, its eyes open and watching his face, but he continues to deny it eye contact.

Erwin sits it on its butt and spreads its legs so he can shave between them. He gives little thought to his hand as he grasps the small, uncut penis so that he can groom the testicles and anus. The touch is clinical but the pet arouses regardless.

“Back into the water,” Erwin orders, looking at the flushed cheeks, the slack mouth, and carefully avoiding the eyes that he knows are begging to be met.

It must not know the words yet, so Erwin points to the bathtub and it obeys then. He rolls up his sleeves as it sinks into the water, running hands over its skin.

“Mike has been trying to convince me of the benefit of sexual pleasure and bonding.” Erwin dips his hand into the hot water and swirls it. The pet watches his hand intensely, uncomprehending of Erwin’s words. “I preferred the necessity of survival, and now that I believe I’ve won that, there’s no harm in trying things this way, as well.”

Erwin touches its ankle under the water and moves his hand backward to the testicles. It gasps and goes still. With his other hand, Erwin cups the back of its head. His thumb strokes at its ear.

“Relax,” he murmurs, looking at its bitten lip. Erwin rubs his middle finger around its puckered entrance and then sinks the tip inside. His pet gasps again, eyes wide and Erwin meets them, finally, and that small thing makes it relax down into the water, free of tension. Erwin’s finger slips in to the knuckle. He does not break his gaze away as he finds the little point of pleasure and pushes into it. Below him, his pet writhes and gasps and pants, and then it’s over so quickly, within moments, as white ropes float to the top of the water between them.

“Good dog.” He removes his hands and rises to go wash them at the sink. Absentmindedly, he raps his knuckles on the door to alert the maids to return to finish the grooming.

The water sloshes and then there’s a quiet, stuttered, mispronounced, “Thank you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That magical word search predicted in 2018 I'd be "manipulation pathology witch" so I'm starting my year off Right.


	7. Chapter 7

The commander’s office is filled with photography equipment the next time that Levi accompanies him to work. He’s been recovering from a couple of weeks in the pound, left at home all month, alone in the commander’s room, and visited by the maids to groom him or by the private tutor that teaches him. They feed him from plates on the floor and it makes him restless, thinking of fingertips in his mouth instead.

This morning’s grooming was overseen by the commander. He’d fed Levi crumbles of angel food cake before they departed for the court, his words sounding very much like a promise.

Levi sits in his nest, watching the assembly of lighting and tripods, trying to keep all the strangers within his line of sight at all times. The commander is there, too, speaking to the woman that Levi thinks will interview him. Figures that it's about time for publicity, it’s been six months since the overturn of power and the seizure of the island.

A young lady pulls in a clothing rack behind her, opaque garment bags bursting at the seams. This also wins the commander’s attention and he excuses himself from his conversation to direct her over toward Levi. He tenses but the commander’s secretary arrives with a platter of petit fours, distracting him, and Levi’s mouth waters. The cakes are set on the desk and Levi swallows. He’s being good, just like he’s expected, and those must be for him when this is all over.

It’s the commander’s pat thigh that eventually lures him out of his nest. The young woman is unzipping garment bags to show the contents to the man, and when Levi is at their side, she removes a long, green gown and holds it up against him, asking the commander a question, his opinion perhaps.

The green gown disappears and she drags out a puffy navy ball gown that’s too much like the paint on the walls, then a gaudy gold contraption that the commander considers before swatting away. She pulls a delicate looking swatch from her clipboard and shows the commander, and he nods immediately, his voice dripping with pleasure that makes Levi’s spine tingle. The young woman wheels out the rack and comes back a moment later with a single dress.

It’s the colour of cream and looks about as soft and silky as butter. Cherry blossoms are embroidered whimsically, alternating pale pink and warm salmon. It looks like something a child might wear for a special occasion, long-sleeved and high-necked lace innocence. The commander strips Levi naked without concern for the eyes in the room, and then the young woman proceeds to help him into the dress.

The commander gives Levi a critical eye, and then kneels down, spreading the skirt out around Levi. He adjusts Levi’s leather collar where it lays over the lace. A question comes. “Do you like this?”

Levi nods, because he thinks the commander wants him to. Because the man is looking at him like he's worth looking at.

“Use your words,” he tells him, a phrase that Levi is intimate with these days.

He's still clumsy with the language, still overcoming the aversion, only continuing with grasping it because of how pleased the praise he receives sounds on the commander’s tongue. It feels good on his skin, and despite the oddity of wearing a dress, Levi can almost imagine wearing it again, should the commander present the opportunity.

“Yes,” Levi blanks and pauses for a moment before, “I like this.”

The commander cuts a petit four in half with the side of a fork and then offers it to Levi. He leans forward to take it in his mouth, and the decadent chocolate lights his brain on fire.

The photo shoot leaves him stiff and on edge, though. It lasts too long. No one touches him to reposition him, instead instructing his commander, but it's overstimulating nonetheless. The commander puts Levi back in his silk tunic when it's over, feeds him petit fours until his stomach sours, and sends him back to his nest, taking a quilt from the pile of bedding and tightly tucking Levi in. Despite the level of activity still in the office, Levi dozes off in a sugar crash, lulled to sleep by the steady rumble of the commander replying to the interviewer.

That evening, on their walk through the lobby, Levi sees Isabel and she sees him. It's just a heartbeat’s worth of eye contact, but it stretches between them. She looks healthy, her red hair tucked back and diamond teardrop earrings on display. She walks at the side of the same man, who stops to salute the commander before he's ordered at ease. Levi is overwhelmed with the desire to greet her, to wrap his arms around her shoulders and make sure that she's okay. No bruising marrs her skin, nor have her cheeks lost their childish roundness. He wants to tug on the commander’s pant leg, but the moment passes, and she vanishes from his sight in the crowd.

Back at home, a new crowd awaits. Levi stays at the commander’s side as he takes the time to speak with each pet, to scratch them behind the ears and listen to what they have to say. But Levi's not jealous. He's absolutely not jealous of the attention they receive for speaking clearly and concisely. He doesn't look too long at any of them, doesn't want to see that they've already earned decoration when he's still… naked.

“Be nice,” the commander tells him sternly when he growls at the affectionate advance of a housemate. Levi stiffens and lets the other pet approach him and knock his head into Levi's chin, though Levi offers only tolerance.

“What do you say?” The commander sounds more humoured than upset.

Levi grits his teeth and mutters, “Good evening, Farlan.”

Farlan beams, as if the acknowledgement makes him incredibly happy, and Levi looks away with a sneer tugging on his lips.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put Levi in lolita, so sue me


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

Levi's breath rattles through his chest but he hops up onto the box regardless. He swallows hard, trying to wet his throat, and the commander waits with a proffered biscuit, makes Levi lean forward and take it. Rough fingers card through his hair and scratch behind his ear.

“That's it,” the commander coos at him, clearly pleased that Levi pushes himself past the reasonable point of exhaustion at his order. He tells Levi something in words too quick, but he hears ‘done’ and ‘down’ so he slides off the box, landing in a crouch and slinking forward into a crawl.

Getting back to the commander’s room is a matter of putting his head down and bearing through it, and seeing the maids preparing a bath is a happy relief. There's always cake afterward.

His nest in the foot of the commander’s bed feels like heaven, and he sinks down despite the room’s brightness. The commander paces along the tall windows with a phone pressed to his ear, but he’s speaking too quickly for Levi to eavesdrop. Lightly, he dozes in exhaustion from the workout and the hot bath that followed, waking when the bed dips and a warm hand settles over his neck.

Levi cracks an eye, acknowledging lazily the plate on the bed. Black forest gateau-- he’s only ever dreamt of its taste, but he suddenly finds himself dreaming of licking the sticky cherries from the rough fingertips. The commander pushes the plate back and lays a magazine down in its place, slips his index finger under a tab and opens it to a designated page.

The interview.

The first page is a picture that Levi hardly imagined would look this way. The commander stands tall and proud in front of his desk, the city serving as background through the windows of his office. Levi kneels at his side, his eyes lowered and his hands together in his lap. The dress is spread around him like a cloud, like a blooming cherry blossom. The power imbalance is clear and it startles him into the reality of his situation.

He’s a prisoner, he’s being changed from who he truly is and forced into a false personality, he’s being played with like a cat pawing at a trapped mouse, and this image, how he must look, this is not who he is. He is the most feared criminal back home. His power is unquestionable, and even when questioned, remains steadfast.

And then the commander turns the page and it’s a close-up of Levi from behind, the commander’s fingers cupping the base of his skull and black hairs slipping through. The image soothes him, steals his negative burst, strangles it and buries it. The dress, it had a little window right over his brand, showing off the mark of ownership. Above the photo, words in bold print and one word his name.

“Read, please,” Levi says, reaching up to point at the title.

The hand on his neck rubs around, down, nails scratching at his brand. “It says, ‘leadership and Levi: how Erwin Smith continues to conquer.’”

Levi pulls his head back but the hold keeps him anchored in place and he gives in. “That is you?”

“Yes.”

“Erwin Smith,” Levi murmurs, testing, tasting. The commander, or Erwin, they're the same, but Erwin feels more real. It feels closer. It's the name of a person, not the title of authority. It feels like the final canyon of distance between them crumbles, like Levi can reach out and touch the other side, like he can touch Erwin for who he is, not what he is.

Those rough fingers pinch into the gateau and Levi nearly moans around the taste of it. The fingertips, Erwin's fingertips, wait for him to clean them and with every bite of his reward, Levi inches closer, until he’s gripping the strong wrist and letting his eyes slip closed as he does. On his neck, the other hand kneads.

The commander, Erwin. Erwin doesn't admonish him for holding his wrist. He doesn't say anything as Levi trades cake frosting for saliva on his skin. It becomes a nightly habit, Erwin feeding Levi cake while he lays in bed.

The ritual is upended not long after. The maids bathe him and dress him in a heavy pair of pajamas. Instead of climbing into bed, he escorts Erwin down to the car service.

“Let's go,” Erwin says, pointing for Levi to climb into the car. “We're going on a trip.”

Levi's anxiety is not born until he's expected to climb up the stairs into a private jet and he can't budge. He can't name the reason for this shock of terror, but it feels so vital that he get away from this machine as fast as possible. When Levi disobeys the first order to climb, the commander squats and gathers Levi in his arms like a damsel and ascends. It petrifies him. He doesn't fight.

He's desperate to stay in the safety of the commander’s arms, feeling the adrenaline dumping into his bloodstream. His hands shake and his heart pounds and he feels like he's about to die, but he doesn't know why, he doesn't know the danger or its nature or where it is hiding, waiting to take him unaware.

“Erwin,” he whines quietly, barely able to form the sounds between gasps. He's placed into a nest at the foot of a recliner and he still can't get a hold of his body.

The cabin door closes and seals at the pilot’s order. An attendant prepares them for take off and Levi is so busy watching her movements that he doesn't see the syringe in Erwin's hand until he feels the prick.

It doesn't put him to sleep but it drinks up the adrenaline and makes Levi swim, it makes him slow for a few minutes before he evens out, aware and paralysed, yet artificially calm.

He doesn't care as Erwin picks him up under the arms to settle him astride strong legs.

He doesn't care either, when gravity drops out from under him as they take to the air and he's placed back in his nest.

Toward the end of their flight, the drug wears off. Levi is given a chance to relieve himself and change into a combat uniform identical to the commander’s before landing. He gets his mitts and knee pads.

It's dawn as they deboard. The commander carries him down the steps amid the greetings and questions whose meanings are all too easy to understand, a language hardwired into his very being.

When Erwin kneels and puts Levi down, he pushes his hair back and kisses the newly exposed forehead. His words are kind but his voice is threatening when he says, “Welcome home.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for making this my most subscribed fic, you guys are filthy <3


	9. Chapter 9

It is the most humiliating thing in his life. A dull and heavy mortification whittles away through the back of his skull, but his body remembers the hunger it has suffered in disobedience to his commander, so he can only put his head down and obey. But he's on his own island again and this show of inferiority is not a second side of himself that happens away from home; it cleanses him, it melts together the Levi free and the Levi branded. It is absolute.

He hosts no doubts that any single citizen is unaware that their most godless criminal surrenders on his hands and knees. Everyone knows who he was and who he is now. There is no secret when it's laid out before their very eyes.

Levi hesitates at the offered treat, his eyes darting around the room of former sovereignty and dignitaries, all of whom defer to his commander’s government now. Only when eyes glance away politely does he lean in and wrap his lips around the treat, does his tongue chase the taste away. This whole room is aware of his crimes, newly aware of how lowly he's become. He wants to disappear.

It must be a show. The way Erwin is plying him with food and affection. Petting his hair and brushing thumbs over his skin and cupping his jaw and the ‘he is very obedient’ and the ‘I'm very pleased to own him’ and the polluted comfort it brings. It's a game.

And the group of them, they're like friends, like business partners catching up and congratulating one another on their joint success. His stomach rolls and lurches. The overtaking was not as sudden and unexpected as the people all believed.

Levi bends over, tucking his arms and legs under himself, presenting the mountain range of his spine. The combat uniform is a bit too warm with insulation. Levi's grown used to the hot climate broken by air conditioning and silks or satins on his skin.

When it's finally over, he unfolds and stretches out his shoulders with a badly suppressed groan. His people pay their respect to the commander on their way out, chatty and jovial words in Erwin’s language, familiarity matching Levi’s new expectations.

Levi swallows back the memory of bone-deep suffering that ran rampant through the nation prior to the arrival of the opposing army. He grinds his teeth against the memory of groceries costing five-fold, ten-fold, twenty-- how thin parents became so that children could be shielded, the elderly dying in droves. They had suffered. These cunts make jokes.

He's growling and it catches the ear of someone who looks at him with a smirk, someone who turns to Erwin and says, so that Levi can understand perfectly, “It's good to see him on his knees like he should have always been.”

“What you say?” Levi snaps, pushing himself forward, the sudden outburst feeling both at home here in his homeland and incredibly foreign in the presence of his commander. A hand takes his collar around the back and he rears up on his knees to shout, “You pieces of shit!”

_“That's enough,”_ Erwin orders in his tongue but Levi surges until he rips free.

“You bitch,” Levi seethes, anger and vengeance bubbling up, coiling dangerously, giving him strength enough--

There's a moment of black and then he's sprawled on the floor, his iced brain feeling loose within his skull. His nose bleeds freely, crushed between the tile and his head and the boot that holds him down.

There's the delicate clack of stilettos and then a soft, seductive, _“Go easy on him, Erwin,”_ followed by the sound of lips against skin.

Levi's disoriented but he blinks away black spots just as an expensive shoe passes and his hand swipes, a cobra-quick glimpse of the deadliness that is his in infamy, grabs the ankle and yanks. The lady falls gracelessly. The boot presses harder.

His commander is all smiles without apologies. He makes no excuses but somehow placates his friends regardless. Perhaps. Levi's not sure. He feels detached from himself, he feels fuzzy in every inch of his body, like there's a barrier between his soul and his vessel. The boot is firm. He drifts.

Heavy hands lure him up from the depths. There's a moment of blissful peace and then his body slams him with awareness, his nerves screaming with agonising stimulation. His mortality crashes onto him like the waves of a violent maelstrom, and he spins, unanchored, unkept, an infinite moment in which all he knows is impending death and the terror of the unknown voyage that is the afterlife, and not even the promise of a mother's welcoming embrace can soothe his clawing desire to live--

_“Use your words.”_

An echo pierces the storm like the light in an eye, and he scrabbles for it, blindly pulling himself closer to that sound, and though he can't yet identify it or why, the presence of it calms.

_“Use your words like a proper person.”_

Levi swallows, only realising the noises he makes then. He pushes his tongue against the ring of metal in his mouth, tries to press his jaw closed for a moment before his head thrums with electrifying pain. He lets his mouth stay open and slack and finds he's grateful for the device as his nose is clogged. No, broken. He remembers now, having his commander stomp him into the floor when he made violent advances, he remembers the puddle of his alive blood as it died around him. His commander has never hurt him before this, he's never been hit or kicked or abused and there must have been something so much more unforgivable about his actions to earn his discipline.

He opens his eyes to impenetrable darkness.

“I can't see,” he murmurs around the device with difficulty, swallowing the metallic postnasal drip.

_“Speak like a proper person.”_

He stammers, unable to recall the proper grammar but getting his point across eventually. The device is removed from his mouth first, then his sight is restored, and it feels too much, too bright. Only the moon illuminates the bed upon which he lays, the body stretched beside him, and if he had better control of his mind, he would realise the significance of the nudity between them both.

_“Thank_ _you_ ,” Levi murmurs and gives in to the call of the moon.

The food is the same that Levi's always known but it feels messier, less civilised. His commander doesn't feed him from fingertips for the remainder of their time there, so Levi feeds himself. The nostalgic taste makes him ravenous.

Everyday, after the work has been done, the commander retrieves Levi from his solitude. They go on a car ride. He's only allowed out of the commander’s lodging for these trips and they always survey the most desolate areas of the city. The commander sits Levi in his lap and holds his bruised face against his chest and tells Levi to describe what he sees through the window. There's no way to sidestep the terrible pain that pierces Levi during this activity.

_“My people,_ ” he murmurs on the fourth night. He can't bear to say anything more, to look the horrors evolving in the eye and acknowledge them from the safety of the car.

_“What of your people?_ ”

_“They, they_ … persevere, what is that word?”

His commander supplies it.

_“They persevere_ ,” Levi replies.

Erwin is quiet for a long time. When he speaks, it is even and measured. _“I own you, and my people are your people now. You will separate yourself from this country.”_

Levi bristles at the order but does little else, thinks little else, feels little else but relief.

The next morning, he knows it to be their last day because all their bags are packed and shuttled off before breakfast. His commander paces the window. Levi eats his meal on the floor amid the memories of cake in bed late at night that feel so distant.

Levi departs alongside the commander and accompanies him far into the countryside, to the military training complexes that Levi would steal equipment from because the shit was worth more on the underground than it ought to be.

He watches in the wings as the commander takes the stage and addresses the entire complex. The words are accented with pauses, but Levi still struggles to listen and understand in time. When the commander extends a hand in his direction, calls his name with a pat of his thigh, Levi wishes he'd been paying more attention. He goes, though, keeping his eyes on Erwin's hand until he's close enough for the hand to card through his hair, to tug a handful, to push his head back and leave his neck bare and vulnerable.

_“Soldiers who enlist voluntarily will be given citizenship, as well as their families_.” The commander releases Levi but he's captive, he stays just how Erwin put him. _“Or, pets will be picked from the lists of civilians without papers.”_

Murmurs thunder through the auditorium and Levi tucks his legs beneathe him, all-too conscious to keep his spine rod-straight. The speech resumes and Levi does his best to follow along. He knows too few words. There's no time to stop and think or stumble but stumble he does. Afterward, his commander shows him off and he puts up with it because his nose is still bruised and tender, and he has no idea how much promised violence will be tolerated.

Levi gets through it physically unscathed but humiliated in a way that resigns him. He doesn't even have the mind to be anxious for the flight home. Erwin bundles him up in the nest and he curls into himself pathetically, just as pathetic as he showed his nation that he has become. His mother must turn in her grave for his sake.

“ _Dog_ ,” his commander coos close to his ear.

_“Yes?_ ” Levi pulls his blanket back to expose his face. At a subtle motioning, Levi sits up obediently.

“What are you?”

Levi scrunches his face in confusion. _“What do you mean?”_

Erwin raises his eyebrows and graces Levi with a half-grin. “What are you?”

It feels wrong to converse with the commander in his own language, so he answers in the foreign one, _“I am a pet.”_

_“You are a pet_ ,” Erwin echoes, then switches again, much to Levi's irritation. “Because you are mine, you're spared from the suffering. Yes?”

_“Yes,_ ” Levi agrees.

_“Are you grateful?”_

_“I… am.”_

_“Tell me.”_

Levi bunches his shoulders and mutters, shame in colour pouring onto him, _“I am grateful to be your pet.”_

The commander unclasps his hands to reveal a small, square, velvet box.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Farlan thinks, one evening as Erwin does his ritual of greeting the pets after work, that it's cute to nuzzle at Levi’s earrings. Levi jerks back, murderous, but the commander laughs and ruffles both their hair instead.

No one touches his ears except his commander. Levi doesn't even finger the little gold hoops in his cartilage, the pearls in his lobes. Only the commander tends to them, to keep them free of infection, to admire.

He'd presented them to Levi on their way back, had pulled Levi into his lap and confided that he'd never done this before as he positioned the piercing gun, had marked upon Levi something more intimate.

Levi guards them, these small evidences.

“Do that again,” Levi murmurs, trying to sound deadly with his limited vocabulary, “and I'll cut your neck open when you sleep.”

Farlan’s eyes widen. Levi can feel Erwin step closer, and then his large hand is cupping the opposite side of Levi's face and pressing him into his thigh. Levi is tense at first, residuals from Farlan’s approach, but the fingertips rubbing hard circles into his jaw lure him into a sense of security, and when he begins to relax, the commander fists his hair and draws his head back sharply.

“Apologise.”

Levi blinks and waits a beat until the hand tugs. “I am sorry, Farlan.”

“Tell him you don't mean it.”

“I do not mean it,” he lies.

“Tell him you won't threaten him again.”

“I will not again threaten you.”

The commander leans over and meets Levi's gaze in another sparsely supplied moment of eye contact. Levi never remembers how he hungers until he tastes it.

“Tell me you will not behave like this again.”

Levi is greedy. He takes a moment to bask under that blue gaze before he whispers, only now defeated by the reprimand before his housemates, “I will not again behave this way.”

And he doesn't. Neither does Farlan approach Levi.

Over the course of the weeks after returning from their trip, the commander merges his pets’ home activities and that highlights Levi's special treatment. Only he has a nest on the foot of the commander’s bed. Only he bypasses daycare to accompany Erwin to his office. Only he has two marks in his ears. They take lessons together, literacy and maths and etiquette. They are exercised together. They are fed dinner and bathed together. Erwin knows all of his pets equally well, but Levi has his reassurance in those moments of jealousy.

The commander paces his windows as Levi lounges on his bed. A phone call that sounds like a bunch of numbers. At its end, Erwin sets the phone on his bedside table and pats the edge of the bed where a plate of strawberry shortcake has been waiting for them.

“Tomorrow.” Erwin cups the base of Levi's skull in both hands, thumbs pressing posts into tender skin. “There will be a party here. Hey, shhh.” Levi doesn't realise he stiffened until he lets it go at the shushing. “You will be the best behaved pet.”

Levi drops his forehead and pushes against the firm belly. A scratching along his scalp as his commander says, “You will use your words and your manners. Yes?”

A single nod.

“Speak.”

“I will use words and manners.”

“Good dog.” Erwin adjusts Levi's collar.

He pushes his forehead against his commander once more. “Erwin….”

“Sit up.” When he does so, Erwin raises the little saucer in one hand and with his other, he pinches a strawberry quarter between thumb and index. “Open.”

Levi leans forward, lips parted, and lets Erwin’s fingertips settle on his tongue. He doesn't nip when he licks them clean. He takes the strawberries one at a time just as Erwin gives them, then takes every bite of shortcake.

“That's good,” Erwin tells him. A rough thumb smears whipped cream over his lips and Levi's tongue darts out to chase the appendage, successfully catching it several times.

“Thank you.” Levi raises his hand to wipe the back over his mouth, but the commander takes his wrist, hard at first, then more gently, until he's cradling the bones like one would a baby bird. In retribution, he devours tiny feathers.

“Are you hungry?”

Levi needs a few seconds to process the question around the tightening in his belly from being cleaned. It's strikingly odd. He looks at his commander’s face and finds no game, so he says, “Sure.”

He's already been relieved of his knee pads and mitts for the night, so Erwin takes hold of him like a damsel and carries him with ease. The whole way, Levi looks at the strength in his jaw and in his profile. He looks at the blonde hair free of any silvers. It feels good and safe here, but soon they're in the kitchen and the embrace is discarded. In its place, Erwin takes a carton from the freezer that makes Levi sit straight in anticipation.

Erwin passes the treasure to him and Levi holds it obediently. He scoops his hands under Levi's arms and hoists him up. “Wrap your legs and arms around me.”

Back in his bedroom, the commander takes a seat in his armchair without taking Levi from his lap. There's a little jostling so that two bodies settle comfortably, and Erwin positions Levi with a firm hand pressing the small of his back.

“My physician would scold me,” Erwin says as he feeds Levi the first spoonful of strawberry ice cream and then takes one for himself from the same spoon. Levi watches the silver disappear between his lips, mesmerised.

They share a pint, Levi licking the spoon clean to glean any taste of Erwin that remains. Erwin lures him closer until they're sharing more than a spoon, until Levi knows Erwin's taste on the air. The last spoonful goes to Erwin and Levi hardly thinks before he forces those lips apart and steals the ice cream. Erwin watches him with a controlled expression as it happens, and in the end, Levi withdraws from his mouth unscathed.

“Are you pleased?”

Levi wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his pajamas. “I am. I like this.”

“Did I taste good?”

Levi wipes his mouth again just to hide his face. He can't speak so he nods instead. Firm fingers grip his elbow and lower his arm, so he lets Erwin see the flush bubbling up his neck, over his cheekbones, to his ears.

“Taste again,” Erwin murmurs.

The shuddered breath comes unbidden. Levi swallows and licks his lips. The object of temptation shifts closer, invites itself onto Levi, into Levi.

Just a moment ago, he was inside Erwin to claim the last of their dessert, but now Erwin's entered him to claim something so much more territorial. It lasts just the space between heartbeats, and when Erwin pulls back, he lays his mouth against Levi's ear, nibbles a pearl.

“You'll wear the dress tomorrow.” Erwin speaks in consonants caught on breath.

Levi closes his eyes, can't help it. He confirms in a tone too desperate to be safe, “I'll wear the dress tomorrow.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> debates how to tag ice cream scene


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> featuring drunken masturbation

Levi does not know a whole lot outside of the fact that he's drunk. It's a giddy realisation as he swims inside his thoughts. Light and bubbly and carefree.

He's vaguely aware that he's embarrassing his commander, who keeps tugging his hair to gain his attention and then pressing a long finger to lips that Levi finds he wants to lick clean. But he's been good tonight. The evening began with a sit-down dinner and he was so fucking good, so behaved, Erwin gave him a tall glass of something fucking delicious and so sweet that the burn hardly registered in Levi's mind. God, he is so fucking thirsty just thinking of it.

He leans his head back into the commander’s hold and closes his eyes. He smiles, and it soon erupts into delirious giggles. Another tug, Levi's eyes snap open and Erwin holds his finger to his lips and Levi's bites in a laugh but it's bubbling out of the corners of his mouth.

Okay, he can stop laughing, he can focus. Levi rubs at his eyes to clear his blurry vision, and spies the lively ginger of Isabel’s hair. He begins to crawl in her direction, but he's only half a pace in when his commander takes hold of his collar.

“Stay.” Erwin is trying to sound so big and scary so Levi bites his lips between his teeth and tries to relax but everything is so bright and colourful and he cannot assuage the wild fascination for his surroundings, the everyday suddenly made magical by decoration and atmosphere.

“Erwin,” Levi tries to whisper but it's a little too loud. He reaches up and pulls on his commander’s trouser leg for more-- food, drink, attention, anything. Strong fingers on a condensation-covered rim offer another tall glass of that fucking delicious drink. Levi doesn't need to be told twice before he chugs. He doesn't breathe until the glass is empty. When it’s done, Erwin grips his jaw and angles it upward so unforgivingly that Levi has to vocalise his discomfort with a moan.

“Go lay down.”

Dinner is moving on to cigars and boisterous conversation, dancing, bodies moving throughout the space. Every other pet in attendance is still at their owner’s side. Levi wraps his arms around Erwin’s calf and presses his face into the starched trousers. It’s pathetic, his whine, “Wanna stay with you.”

His hair is yanked this time, drawing him back, exposing his face. A terrible stinging slap, and the following silence of the dining room sharpens his senses for a moment before it all muddies. Levi lifts his hand to his cheek, more than a little dumb.

“Go. Lay. Down.”

Levi gives no verbal affirmation. He crawls away and finds an empty sofa to climb onto.

He watches his housemates where they sit huddled around Erwin, feeding themselves from plates. Without Levi to occupy one of his hands, his commander steeples his fingers under his chin as he listens to the talking around him, half his plate of dinner remaining. God, Levi’s gut sloshes with drink but he’s hungry, too, unsatisfied by the morsels Erwin slipped to him.

Levi nuzzles into the sofa and sighs. He listens to the music as it changes from ambient to lively, as plate settings and tables are cleared out, as the crowd disperses to move, to find corners to smoke in.

No one gives a passing glance to Levi so he climbs down from the sofa and excuses himself. He's drunk and tired and if Erwin isn't going to feed him, there's no point in being here. And besides, Erwin slapped him in from of all their guests because he was being whiny and clingy, so obviously, he doesn't need to stick around. He's been bad and the least he can do is send himself to bed.

By the time he's crawling under the velvet ropes, he's dizzy and wobbly. It takes every ounce of his concentration to make it to Erwin's room, only to find the door is locked. He knocks at it, waits, knocks again, sliding his mitts against it. He's tired, so he rests there in front of the door.

However much later, Levi is jostled awake by a turning lock, but he's still drunk and swimming out of brief dreamscape, everything is hazy; it doesn't occur to him that doors don't unlock by themselves.

He crawls in, falling down the first two times he tries to get on the bed, before remembering the step stool on the other side and wandering over to get up that way instead. The room is dim and it swims, but he catches the bright white of one of Erwin's button downs thrown carelessly.

Levi hears himself moan as he dives into the fabric, as he nuzzles it and rolls into his back. It's warm already. He rolls over again, pressing his belly into the bed.

“Erwin,” he moans, suddenly missing the man terribly, wanting him here, cake and fingers. It seems so long ago but the memory of a shared spoon and stolen ice cream lights a hot bolt inside of him, and he presses his belly into the bed with a slow roll of his hips. “Please, Erwin….”

It feels good and he's drunk and alone and it won't matter, so he ruts against the mattress with such good, hard, slow fucking movements. He's not trying to climax, he just wants to feel this, he wants to indulge in his body, with Erwin's shirt stuffed against his nose and that scent all consuming. Fuck, there's cologne but something human underneath, something sweaty that Levi's hunger recognises, and he bites into the shirt, opens his jaw wide with a moan and gags himself on it. So good, it's so fucking good, he never wants to stop.

“Look at you,” the room murmurs.

Levi pulls the shirt from his mouth and groans. He balls the fabric and slides it underneath him until it's wedged between his cock and the bed. He agrees, begs really, “Look at me.”

“Does that feel good, pet?”

“Yes, fuck.” Levi nods helplessly and ruts down again. “Mm, Erwin.”

“I’m here, little pup.”

He's not startled when hands smooth down his sides and lift the seam of his dress to remove it from his body. It feels better this way, the cool air on his hot skin, his nakedness welcomed.

“Are you going to orgasm?”

Levi shakes his head, even as he buries his face in the blankets. Those large hands cup his jaw and lift his face and Levi looks upon his moonlit commander with a new need.

“I want you to. I want to watch you humping my bed and moaning my name.”

Levi shivers down to his toes and turns his mouth to a cupped palm to kiss it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no oops what a terrible punishment for embarrassing Erwin


	12. Chapter 12

His commander does not address what happened. Levi does his best to pretend it was a drunken dream, but the swimming flashes of blue eyes on him were too real to deny.

The shame had come swiftly the next morning as Levi unstuck himself from the bedspread and washed his face and belly before anyone could see him. He had kept his head down all throughout the remaining week, making sure to keep out from underfoot. Without a doubt, when it had happened, he'd been more than willing to exhibit himself, but now, just the idea of doing that makes him bite his lips in something half of distaste, half of mortification. It was embarrassment as repayment for embarrassing Erwin with clingy behaviour at his party. Still, it was better than being slapped again, or having his nose rebroken.

He does not want to be hit or humiliated, so Levi keeps his behaviour impeccable for weeks, good enough that Erwin puts two new pearls through his earlobes. Things fade back into normalcy, with the exception that Levi's tutoring comes to a pause.

“Educators are on strike,” Erwin explains to his gaggle of pets after breakfast. “To protest the restrictions on international students.”

Only when they’re in the car service, Levi’s head on Erwin’s thigh, a hand stroking his hair, does Erwin confide, “We will give them what they want, for now, and quietly write new standard contracts that prevent this from happening in the future.”

“This a lot happens?” Levi asks.

“Not too often, though it is inconvenient.” Erwin twists the pearls on their posts. “Are you curious in learning more things? I can expand your curriculum.”

Levi shrugs, unsure how to ask for a new course of study. It’s easier to yield and learn what he’s told to learn.

Tucked up lazily in his nest, Levi reads on the tablet Erwin lends him. It’s a fairytale collection, but it’s his reading level so he devours it for a good distraction. Back before, he had never been someone to read as a hobby, but long days at Erwin’s side-- stillness broken by treats and touches when Erwin sees fit-- have convinced him of the virtue of books.

He reads about maidens rescued from terrible circumstance, from indentured servitude and slavery, from evil step-parents, of maidens taken by men captivated with their beauty, their demure countenance, of maidens decorated with jewellery and fed fine foods and sleeping on soft beds with satin sheets.

“Erwin,” he requests quietly, waiting.

After a few moments, “Yes, my little pup?”

“What does… ‘maidenhead’ mean?”

The commander looks down at him and Levi passes the tablet when he motions for it. Erwin doesn't look at it when he explains, “It is one’s virginity.”

“Oh,” Levi breathes so quietly that it may just be a huff. The invasive image of Erwin’s shirt stuffed in his mouth makes him press his knees together and sit up.

“It makes you uncomfortable.” The commander departs from his desk to kneel at Levi’s side with a heavy hand on his brand. “You must still have your maidenhead.”

Levi bristles so forcefully that Erwin’s grip tightens.

“Tell me if I am mistaken.”

Levi looks to his mouth and swallows. “You are mistaken.”

“Pups should not lie.”

“I am not a pup.”

“Are you,” and Erwin digs a thumb into a pressure point, “not? Is this how you admit a lie?”

“I am not lying, I had lovers.” Levi should know better than to try and skip around words, should know better than to try and be clever. He looks down, away. What he doesn’t say-- _you’ve been inside me, you’ve watch me cum twice._ Levi keeps his breathing even as he feels eyes scouring him, and then Erwin hands the tablet back to him. Levi takes it and presents his back before he lays on his side and continues reading.

Nothing seems to come of it. The routines remain steadfast. Lessons, the court, exercising. Erwin begins to host guests at dinner during the weekends. Levi's housemates eat from plates while he's handfed, and after a bath, Levi lounges in his nest on the bed and waits for Erwin to arrive with cake.

Nothing comes if it. Until one morning, something comes of it. Erwin clips a leash onto his collar and they're driven not to court, but somewhere else among the skyscrapers, somewhere that the waiting area is clean and white, but Levi hears the telltale buzzing needles. Their artist greets them, greets Erwin with a kiss on each cheek, and leads the way back to her workspace. She and Erwin have already come to an agreement for what ink will stain Levi's skin.

“One sitting, he can handle it,” Erwin tells her. “If he misbehaves, sedate him and call animal control. He remembers it.”

She doesn't bat an eye while Levi swallows. After situating in their respective chairs, she raises the thigh that Erwin shaved for him this morning and gets to work. Any time that she needs to address him, she calls him little pup; hearing it from a stranger is jarring in its reassurance. A small acknowledgement of Erwin's power even in his absence.

They don't speak to fill the air. She puts in her headphones and Levi drifts, hazy, enjoying the pinpricking pain of the needle and its white-noise singing. When the embellished floral band circling his thigh is complete, she dresses it for him, as a freshly arrived Erwin watches, and she explains to him how to care for new ink. In turn, Erwin tells her all about Levi being his first pet and how wonderful it is for them to experience so many firsts together.

“I enjoy finding these new virginities to take from him,” Erwin says darkly and she laughs.

They head home into a springtime sunset like blood seeping over clouds. Erwin pats his thigh and Levi lays his head. His commander says, “Tell me how you took your pleasure.”

Levi’s body betrays him with a pulse of tension, a too-deep breath, and Erwin answers by shushing him, by running his knuckles roundtrip in the valley of Levi’s spine.

“Tell me what made you feel good before you were mine,” he demands nonetheless, tone gentle, tone imploring. Distantly, Levi thinks it is bait. There’s patience as Levi chews his lip and remains silent, but that patience is not eternal.

“Do you have nothing to say because you lied?”

“I did not lie.”

“Then, you were dishonest.”

“I was not.” Levi rolls onto his back and Erwin allows it so that his hand settles on an exposed breastbone.

“You are purposefully being disobedient. Do you want discipline?”

“I…,” Levi drawls, backed into a corner. It occurs to him for the first time that he feels shame for his actions, though he doesn’t understand why. But there’s no choice now, there’s no hiding or lying, there is only Erwin and the fear of Erwin’s punishment. With another too-deep breath, he guts himself, bathes in the red blood of shame while Erwin watches, until he’s described everything in detail, because Erwin accusing dishonesty makes him feel worthless.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> extra warnings: alcohol and drug use, chastity devices, manipulation

“If I allow you alcohol, can you control yourself?” Erwin asks him in a way that speaks only of expectation. He's going through a rack of gowns for tonight’s party, a celebration to mark the anniversary of Levi's adoption.

He'd been stunned at first, to realise that a whole year has been written between them, but Erwin only chuckled, ruffled Levi's hair, and pointed out that his tattoo is the outward acknowledgement of that milestone.

Now, naked and kneeling, waiting to be dressed, Levi nods alongside a confident, “Of course.”

“It's a pet party and it seems alcohol awakens your whore,” his commander admonishes. “Are you sure you can control yourself?”

Levi grimaces at yet another reminder of laying bare his sins during the car ride earlier that week. He lowers his head and leans it aside, wanting desperately for Erwin to have mercy on him. “I can control myself.”

“I don't think you can.”

Everything stills and narrows in on Erwin's hands grasping a hanger and pulling forth a deep-sea blue gown that looks more lingerie than formalwear. Instead of long sleeves and a high neck like the innocently modest cherry blossom dress, this one is a backless halter, short in the front for him to crawl, and a long train to drag behind him. Every inch of the garment is sheer, leaving no modesty, no privacy, and Levi believes that Erwin is choosing this just for cruel mockery. It's just over the fence of too-tight, but the material gives with his movements.

“You'll have everyone's attention,” Erwin decides. “One more thing, fortunately, for when you inevitably lose control.” Erwin opens the cosmetics case hanging on the rack and pulls out a handful of metal and leather. “You're going to wear a cock cage tonight, because heaven forbid you sire any bastards with that disastrous pedigree.”

 _That's not necessary_ , Levi wants to say. _I don't need that. Who would I fuck? Why? I only want--_

Levi sits back and parts his legs, holding his breath as his commander locks him into chastity. Then, he kneels and holds out Erwin's shoes for his feet, guides them together, just as he's learned to do. Erwin carries him down the stairs to the limousine, and after they arrive in the nocturnal hive of downtown, he carries Levi down the stairs to an underground venue.

His celebration is not what he expects. It's not a sit-down dinner, or even a dinner party. It's a party, a proper one, with music and dim lighting and drugs and alcohol everywhere, bright sins aflame after dark. They've got a VIP loft, a large leather sectional overlooking the dance floor.

Levi drinks too much too quickly on too empty a stomach, but Erwin strokes his hair and tips the glasses to his mouth so he swallows gulp after gulp. Erwin laughs at him and cups his cheeks and feeds him a burger but it's too late to stop the intoxication. He feels loose and pliant and pleasant, and he can tell by the way Erwin tugs his hair that he's slipping into his native language.

“I’m _fucking_ sorry,” Levi murmurs against Erwin's knee and then bites it because the idea crosses his mind. Maybe it's his imagination, but he thinks Erwin's groan is more pleasure than pain. The earlier admonishment-- _alcohol_ _awakens_ _your_ _whore_ \-- gives him guilt at even thinking so.

At some point in the evening, Levi sees Erwin trade something in a handshake, and he opens his mouth without question to accept Erwin’s thumb depositing it in his tongue. He's trying his damnedest to control himself and he's doing fairly decent, though he knows he is very obviously inebriated. Erwin keeps feeding and drowning him.

And then, out of nowhere, Levi feels a lightning bolt of lust strike down his spine and electrify between his legs. The weight of the cock cage, forgotten in the haze of drugs and alcohol, caresses him, and he lets his head fall back to release a moan.

Fingers hook into the corner of his mouth and he bites down with more force than he should but he can't stop because there's a part of him awakening-- his whore is coming to the surface and he doesn't give a fuck.

A thumb presses into the dip behind his chin and he releases his hold, licking the fingers as they depart. Erwin taps his lips and he opens his mouth wide.

“I'll pierce you here next,” Erwin threatens and if it's meant to be a punishment, it's a poor job, because all Levi thinks of are the implications. His hole draws up tight at the idea of licking Erwin, of sucking Erwin off, and swallowing his cum.

“ _Oh_ , _am_ _I_ _being_ _so_ _fucking_ _bad_?” Levi shudders and shivers. Erwin flicks his nose at the improper speech. It does little to cow him. “ _Whaaat_?”

“Do you realise how much you're saying out loud right now?”

“ _Enlighten_ _me_ ,” Levi purrs.

“Stop.”

The order brings Levi a second of clear focus and he reigns his body in. He doesn't want to be hit or humiliated, and Erwin's looking like one of those is an option when he asks, “What are you doing?”

Levi looks down at his hands and sees that he's hiked up his dress to rub at the insides of his thighs, high, above the tattoo. Neat red lines.

“I'm, uh,” but Levi trails off and raises his gaze when one of his commander’s shoes lift his chin.

“You're being a whore, aren't you?”

Levi looks sideways but Erwin kicks the underside of his jaw just shy of painfully. He gasps more for shock than anything and is quick to agree, hoping to pacify Erwin. “I'm being a whore.”

“I knew you couldn't control yourself,” Erwin tells him.

The lighthearted pleasure vacates and only dread replaces it. Levi curls into himself and suddenly the music is too loud, it's too dark in here, he feels too out of control. He scoots closer between Erwin's knees and Erwin lays a hand on top of his head.

His commander’s “let's go home” is chased by “please take me home” with haste.

Levi forgot his housemates were in attendance, and their sulking as they pile back into the limousine makes him feel guilty. They were being obedient and having a good time, and it's all his fault that they're being shuttled away, too.

Merciful, Erwin gathers him in his lap for the ride and Levi is still falling deeper into his intoxication, passing through the lustful joy and wallowing in the gutter of despair found at the deepest point of drunkenness. He whimpers, clinging to Erwin, before swimmingly remembering what happened last time he clung. Levi goes to withdraw but Erwin doesn't allow it.

He drifts in and out as more alcohol dumps into his bloodstream, and it feels like he blinks and at once, they're in the commander’s estate, and he blinks again and they're in the bathroom. There's fingers in his mouth and he barely has time to breathe before he's retching, before he's expelling the contents of his stomach and it burns, alcohol before bile, stripping him down to a pathetic mound of flesh.

There's only the sound of pleading as he crumples, miserable, on the cold tile, and gives up control. When he comes to with a pounding head and a sick stomach, the night’s events are perfectly catalogued in his memory, no matter how badly he wishes they'd been flushed down, too. It comes with no surprise that his commander leaves him in bed all day to fester, caged and unbathed. He bides his time.

Erwin greets him with profound tenderness that night. He treats Levi like a fragile, pitiful thing, but Levi can't find any part of himself that does not adore the attention, that doesn't want to curl up in the cradle of Erwin's will and accept without question. Uncaged, bathed. Erwin brushes out Levi's hair, the damp strands tickling at his shoulders. A whole year.

It seems so juvenile to him now, when Erwin knew that Levi would not be able to control himself, and still he'd fought that opinion. It seems so foolish that he assumed he knew better than his commander. It seems so pointless.

Erwin tucks Levi into his nest and moves to leave again when he blurts, “You were right.”

Erwin does not look surprised at Levi's outburst, only nods. “I know. I sincerely hope that you won't question my judgements in the future.”

Slowly, Levi shakes his head. In paced strides, Erwin comes to him. A palm cups his cheek and he turns to nuzzle.

“I trust you,” Levi mutters against it, seals his breathy promise with a kiss. “I trust you.”


	14. Chapter 14

The next time they go back to Levi's homeland, he takes the flight without drugs. The whole week, there are no punishments. Levi sits beside Erwin at all their public meals and waits for beautiful fingers to push food between his lips and then splay for him to clean. Erwin never reprimands him for taking hold of his wrists while he licks, but it is the only contact between them that Levi is ever allowed to initiate. Once they are back home again, Levi receives a hoop through his right nipple.

Erwin teaches Levi new things, and he rewards him with food, or decorates him with jewellery and pretty things to wear. After the sheer anniversary dress, Levi finds that his commander likes to see him displayed in such a way, and he begins taking him to court in articles made of thin lace or tulle that show off his body. It frightens Levi at first, to be so bare, so vulnerable, but he belongs to Erwin Smith, he is collared and branded under the commander. He lays that fear aside in the face of certain safety.

“Up here.” His commander taps the pedestal and Levi hops up onto it eagerly, watching Erwin’s hand as it dictates for him to sit in seiza and lift his arms above his head. The boutique attendant collects his tunic and slips it off over him, then he settles his hands in his lap.

“So, you wanted to see him in reds first, sir?” The attendant asks.

“Yes. I think it will bring up the paleness in its skin.” Erwin steps back when she steps around beside him so that she can compare a few swatches of fabric to Levi.

“It is quite pale,” she agrees. “Maybe a darker wine to begin?”

“I trust your judgements, Marie.”

Marie offers a small smile and proceeds to show Levi in a thin, billowy button down, then a fitting turtleneck, and finally a sheer dress with a plunging neckline that closes at Levi’s navel, all in deep red. Erwin sees him in clothing of all kinds, in gold next, then pale pinks, blues, greens, and finally, white.

The ballgown is not something that offers Levi any mobility. It's a tight corset, lace roses on illusion sleeves, and the fluffiest skirt Levi's ever seen. Even seated, the weight of the dress is apparent. Marie graciously points this out, and Erwin dismisses the concern with, “It won’t need to move during the party.”

Levi doesn't show his confusion, he doesn't show any doubt in Erwin’s words. If there is to be a party, and Erwin says that during this party, Levi will not move, then Levi will be still. He knows better than to think he knows better than Erwin.

There is indeed a party, and it is for his housemates’ adoption anniversary. In the middle of a heat wave, landscaping arranges for an outdoor setting; tables form a circle, a long head table marked with an extravagant centerpiece of bloody roses cascading down like a waterfall. A small pedestal rises in the center of the large space enclosed by the tables, and a dark inkling breezes through Levi's mind.

The maids dress the other pets in their fancy red gowns for the party, but Erwin sews Levi into that white ball gown on his own.

His hands are slow, massaging into Levi's shoulders. “You'll sit for me.”

“Yes.” Levi leans his head back when Erwin tilts his chin up, and he stays position even when the hands move on.

“You'll show everyone,” and Erwin’s hand is a wide thing around the column of Levi's throat, “what it is like to be mine.”

In the midst of Levi's shiver, Erwin slides his hand up and slips his thumb into Levi's mouth and Levi readily accepts it. He's greedy for it.

“You will do this for me.”

Levi closes his lips around the intruding digit and closes his eyes, focusing on the taste of his commander in his mouth. The stray hand wedges between Levi and his corset, and the added width makes it nearly impossible to breath with the lacings so tight, so Levi pushes the air from his lungs to accommodate Erwin's hand and he sinks into the pleasure of his ring being flipped. All too soon, Erwin removes his hand and allows Levi to breathe, but he'd rather have Erwin’s hand back, even if it were to bring black spots to his vision.

Erwin decorates Levi in pearls, covers his head with a crown of white flowers, a trailing veil of white petals. Levi savours a phantom memory of cake instead of a reward. Erwin dresses, and Levi puts his shoes on for him, relaxed sandals to match his trousers and cabernet sauvignon summer shirt. Levi's fingers skim up to ankles before Erwin pulls away. When Erwin picks him up, he's not set down again until he's on the pedestal in the garden, at the center of the circle of tables.

Erwin's hands position him, and the corset keeps his spine straight, and as the garden fills with guests and pets, Levi waits; and as there is music and food and his stomach growls, Levi waits. He doesn't twist or turn or fidget. He closes his eyes and he is still, he stays how Erwin put him. He trusts and he waits.

A hush falls over the crowd and then there are hands cupping his jaw. A rumble from Erwin above, behind him, “You're doing well, my little dog.”

Levi beams, can't help but feel pride blooming through his chest. He leans sideways into the palm of the right hand and sighs with contentment. Being on display like this, trussed in white like a sacrificial lamb, he doesn't mind it as long as Erwin praises him. He's happy to keep doing whatever makes Erwin praise him so sweetly.

Hands leave his jaw and Levi jerks as a stream of cold liquid hits the top of his head, pouring down through his flower crown, running over his skin, soaking into his dress, staining it red. He opens his mouth to release a shuddering breath and he tastes bitter wine. When the stream meets an end, their guests give applause and Levi is torn between humiliation and pride, but a gentle coo from his commander convinces him of one over the other.

“You'll do anything for me, won't you?”

Levi licks his lips. “Anything.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi is almost there.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring conditioning, branding, noncon orgasm

There is no cake after his nightly bath, and Levi knows there is a reason. He scrutinises his activities through the day, every interaction is scoured for imperfections, be it the bend of his head or the curve of his spine. But he finds that his behaviour was, as everyday, exemplary, so he worries.

Erwin replaces the cake with heavy petting, running his hands around Levi's body, though there is a focus on Levi's throat. It starts at his brand, nails gently scraping, rubbing the raised edges. Then the hand curls forward to squeeze the arteries and Levi leans his head back in welcoming surrender.

“Yes, my pet?”

Levi blinks open sleepy eyes and finds his commander considering him closely but all he can do is hum in the blood rushing his brain when the pressure subsides.

A thumb finds his windpipe and gives a flirtatious push, just enough to make Levi's head feel like it's inflating, and then the thumb repents in featherweight brushes.

“Erwin,” Levi breathes, closing his eyes, tipping his head back when two fingers dig between his lips and pull his jaw open. His back arches and he juts his hips forward, feeling all at once hot and needy.

“Do you think you can do it tonight?”

Levi nods, head bobbing madly, eyes still closed. Just a mention has his cock stirring. “Yes, yes, anything, Erwin.”

“Don't make empty promises,” Erwin cautions.

But Levi is sure that tonight will be the first night he cums by word alone. For two months now, Erwin’s been walking him up to it. It’s always a routine, a recitation, words that wind through Levi’s brain as he ruts against sheets and Erwin always demands he peak at the same phrase--

“Alright, pet.” Erwin steps away from him and makes a wide arc of the room. “Up on the bed, now, with your knees spread.”

Levi obeys as quickly as possible and he watches Erwin’s every move. He does his part as Erwin goes through the speech, he closes his eyes and gives himself to the caressing voice, pleasures in the sound without the touch until--

The intensity startles him and knocks him out of the peak of his orgasm, but he quickly descends into breathless, unbelieving laughter, shocked giggles almost. Erwin cards a hand through his hair as Levi shakes through aftershocks and falls backward onto the bed, little more than a writhing tangle of sharp limbs.

And to think, he'd wanted to eat Erwin’s heart…. What a fool he was.

“Very good,” Erwin coos, then promises Levi a wonderful surprise in the morning.

That surprise, it turns out, is a trip down to visit the stable master. The fires are burning, irons in them, and the hanging smell of burned flesh gives Levi a rush of adrenaline that makes him blind and deaf with terror. But his commander grabs his collar around the back and forces his cooperation. It gives him no choice but to keep going and the world narrows down to the thumping of his heart in his ears.

“Right here,” Erwin tells him and Levi can't look up. He can feel the heat and he knows that if he sees the brick fire pit, he will surge in disobedience. He can't look. He has to be good.

What is he here for? Is he not Erwin's good little dog? Is his behaviour not enough proof-- does Erwin demand his repentance for every ill thought Levi conjured back before he realised how good it is to belong to his commander? He's a good dog! He should not be here!

“Hold your hands out,” Erwin instructs and Levi surrenders the extremities, though they shake like the splitting earth.

Cuffs are affixed and anchored down. Levi whines in his throat but swallows it back as quickly as he can. He's a good dog, he's going to show Erwin that no matter how afraid he may be, he is good and obedient. There's a breath of cool air as Levi's hair is pushed back and it hangs like blinders beside his head.

He's a good dog. He's good, he's good, he's good good good.

Boots press into his shoulder blades one moment, and the next, he feels an immeasurable heat hovering over his neck, lining up with the first brand, and then fire is all he knows and the seconds last a lifetime... and then the splinteringly painful relief of flesh and nerves burned away deliver him to unconsciousness.

There in the void, he is whole and safe, there are dozens of Erwin’s hands cradling him, stroking him, showing him that he is indeed good. There's a far off echo, carrying over the waters of oblivion. It makes Levi arch his back and press his knees together, desire a dreamy thing, and then he's dragged violently from his sleep, sputtering and choking and cumming, conscious just soon enough to catch the last few words of his commander’s recitation.

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

After the second burn heals over the first to create a beautiful, raised brand, Levi is given another tattoo, a matching floral band, this one on his left thigh. Erwin marks his obedience in symmetry. It's neat and orderly, like all things his commander touches.

When Levi's ears are filled with hoops and pearls, Erwin begins to mark him in places that would ordinarily be hidden, but Erwin also dresses him in sheer and lace, so every earned jewel remains on display.

Between his second and third tattoos, Levi begins to lose track of time. Three years feels impossibly short, while at the same time, it feels as if he has always belonged to Erwin, like he was made here and lived all his life under Erwin’s hand. He has everything he needs, so long as he behaves the way he should, and he always behaves the way he should. Erwin gives him everything he needs: food, rest, exercise, pleasure, piercings, and tattoos. Everything a good pet needs, Levi gets. He would deny Erwin no request.

Levi learns to accept the cockcage when Erwin wishes it, so often that he believes he would be feral without his commander to set boundaries and keep him under control. In the times that Levi remembers snippets of life before being branded, he shudders at his poor behaviour, at what a wild heathen he was. Erwin has taken him and refined him, made him something worthwhile, taught him manners, taught him how to be a proper person. Rightfully, he owes Erwin the rest of his life.

After five tattoos, Erwin decides that Levi is ready for the highest honour. His commander takes him down to the pound and lets him choose the newest housemate.

The kennels are only half full, so there is not much to choose from, but Levi finds he is immediately enamoured with the first stray.

She is shameless in her begging, her fingers reaching through the chainlink. But she begs in a language all wrong, and Levi cringes at the sound of Erwin being addressed with Levi’s lowly native tongue.

“I like this one,” Levi tells Erwin nonetheless.

Erwin settles his hand on top of Levi's head and ruffles his long hair, some wisps catching and falling from Levi's braided updo. “What do you like about it?”

That answer is easy. “The desperation.”

“I like that, too.” Erwin leans down and whispers into Levi's ear, “But it makes noise like an animal, don't you agree?”

“I agree.”

“Tell it what to do, to be adopted.” Erwin places a hand between Levi's shoulders and applies pressure.

Levi crawls forward but stays out of her reach. He waits for her begging to quiet down before he addresses her, “Speak like a proper person, and you can come home with us.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well this was fun, hope everyone enjoyed the journey, thanks for reading


End file.
